


Hello Goodbye

by Sioux



Category: Shetland (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10429197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sioux/pseuds/Sioux
Summary: Cassie comes home from Brazil, on her own.Duncan opens his mouth when he shouldn't.Jimmy gets caught in a cocaine pipeline, battered by a storm and finds a new friend.





	

 

'Tosh, can you get the forensics on the Summerskill RTA please?'

'Been asking for the last two hours, Sir. There's a hold up in Glasgow. They're  
saying heavy snow is causing problems.'

A text chime interrupted Tosh. She glanced at her phone, despite realising it wasn't the one she had for texts.

'What a bloody surprise!' Perez growled. 'One flake of the white stuff and the country grinds to a halt.' A chime interrupted him, quickly followed by another. 'Will one of you answer your bloody phone!' he shouted.

'Er, that would be you, Sir,' Tosh replied, bravely, finally recognising the alert.

Quickly he pulled his mobile from his jeans pocket and opened the screen. He read the first text, then the second. A mutter of expletives followed. After reading the third he flung himself into his office and slammed the door.

Sandy cast a speculative eye at the closed door.

'So what do you think? Cassie, Duncan or Asha?'

'It's no gonna be Asha!' Tosh replied, derisively.

'What? When did that happen?' Sandy asked.

'Call yoursel a detective,' Billy said softly, smiling. 'She's been history for about two months.'

'Nearer three,' Tosh corrected him.

'What happened? Thought they were set fair.'

'Fall-out from Phyllis. The mole was in her department. None of them came out smelling of roses. Just fizzled out.'

'Reduces the odds then,' Sandy said, after a minutes reflection, 'Cassie or Duncan? My money's on Cassie.'

'Duncan!' Tosh and Billy, chorused quietly together. It still didn't stop DI Perez lifting his head and aiming a dirty look at the pair of them.

 

Forty-five minutes later Duncan Hunter arrived in person.

'Is the big man still here?' he asked Billy at the front desk.

'Aye,' Billy replied, nodding his head to the still closed office door.

On his way passed Tosh and Sandy, Duncan put one of the two carrier bags onto Sandy's desk. 

'Early Christmas present for yous.'

Duncan knocked softly on the closed door and entered on the look directed at him.

Sandy immediately dived into the bag as soon as the door closed behind him, disgorging three tins of shortbread and a bottle of single malt. Billy's eyes lit up at the unexpected largesse.

 

'What is she talking about? Has something happened to her and Edison?' Were the two initial questions thrown at the other man as he entered the office.

'Good afternoon to you too,' Duncan replied.

Jimmy breathed out and with an effort tried to calm himself down.

'Sorry Duncan. Sit down.'

Duncan sat and extracted a very nice bottle of single malt from the carrier bag at his feet.

'Glasses?'

Tosh could tell Duncan was talking her boss down, slowly but surely. 

'You'd think he'd be happy he's seeing Cassie around Christmas,' Sandy remarked having gathered the gist of the conversation through the closed door. 'He's been a bear wi a sore he'ed the last couple of weeks.'

'Bear or not, he's letting us have Christmas Day off, so be grateful,' she said, tartly.

Sandy made a face in reply then got on with his work.

'How much do you know so far?' Duncan asked, after taking a reverent mouthful of the amber liquid.

'I got a text saying she's flying in around the 15th and to speak to you. Has she split up with Edison?'

'No, no, nothing like that,' Duncan replied with a smile.

After a second Jimmy looked at Duncan with wide eyes and asked, 

'She's no preggars, is she?'

Duncan let loose a loud laugh.

'Our daughter has way more sense than that!'

Jimmy visibly relaxed and took a large gulp from his glass.

'Thank the Lord f'that!' he muttered with feeling, before polishing off his drink. 'Why isn't Edison coming back with her? I'm not happy about her flying all that way on her own.'

'She won't be on her own, a friend of theirs is coming back to the UK so they're flying back together.'

'Who is she?'

'He. Philip Dixon.'

'I'm no happy about her spending the night in Glasgae with some bloke I've never met.'

'Let's face it neither of us was happy when she went off to Brazil with Edison. We're just going to have to trust her judgement. She's an adult now.'

Jimmy shot him a hunted look.

'I know, she's still our little girl, but legally she's old enough to make her own decisions,' Duncan replied gently.

 

Duncan and Jimmy were still ensconced in his office when it was time for shift change. Tosh forwarded the long awaited forensics report to her boss, put her coat on and left, taking her tin of shortbread with her.

'Has she told you anything else?' Jimmy asked.

'Only that they have the chance of getting a couple of new suppliers on board but Edison needs to deal with other business matters, so Cassie is going to speak to them and sign them up, hopefully.'

'Where does this Philip Dixon fit in?'

'Have a look at his website,' Duncan advised, putting his glass down for a refill whilst he accessed a bookmarked website on his phone.

'He's an artist,' Jimmy said, looking at the images.

'One who's making quite an impact as well, from the bits and pieces I've gleaned.'

'Is he part of their business?' Jimmy asked, flicking through the rest of the web pages.

'Don't think so. He's a friend of Edison and then of Cassie. Goes travelling and paints. Philip was coming back to the UK, so is Cassie so they are just travelling together.'

'Apart from his art, what do we know about this bloke?' Jimmy asked, suddenly switching from worried father to DI Perez.

'Now that I will have to leave to you. Not read anything unsavoury about the man.'

Jimmy looked up at his co-parent. 'Oh, so you have been checking up on him!'

Duncan shrugged. 'I wanted to get a picture of the man who will be flying around six thousand miles with our girl.'

Jimmy laughed. For all Duncan's apparent laissez-faire attitude, underneath he cared, passionately, for his nearest and dearest.

'If you find anything, see you let me know,' Duncan warned Jimmy.

'Same goes for you too,' Jimmy replied, emptying his glass. 

'Fancy coming out for a bite of dinner,' Duncan asked.

'Can't. Got paperwork to finish before I get out of here.'

Duncan drained the last few drops and stood. 'Another time then.'

'Aye, another time.'

As he turned to leave, Duncan winked at him and grinned.

'Get out!' Jimmy laughingly snarled.

 

Within two days Jimmy had abused his police privileges and checked Mr Philip Andrew Dixon through several databases. Despite having lived with Fran he had expected to find some drug convictions at least but his prejudice was to be disappointed. The young man came back squeaky clean. Not even a parking ticket showed up.

Irrationally annoyed and disappointed he texted Duncan:-

'Nothing. The bugger hasn't even had the decency to pick up a speeding ticket!'

The grinning smiley face which answered him did nothing to help his temper.

'You're not taking this seriously,' he replied, peevishly.

'Oh, I am,' Duncan replied, less than a minute later. 'He could be just what he appears to be, a nice chap!'

Jimmy didn't even bother replying, he growled to himself and picked up the next load of paperwork he had to sign off. His phone beeped again. Another text from Duncan.

'Come on out this evening, have a bite to eat. Carol Everslie keeps asking about you.'

The idea of a meal with company was appealing but not with Ms Everslie, or should he say the ex-Mrs Peter Campbell, in the mix. Island gossip said she was on the hunt for husband number three and he didn't intend to be a contender.

'Not tonight, thanks.'

'Only kidding about Carol, just me and you.'

'Bastard!'

'No, I can definitely find the paperwork to say ma and pa had tied the knot before I got here. How about the Ghurka, sevenish?'

'OK. See you there.'

 

The food and the company were both good. Jimmy related the little information he'd picked up on Philip Dixon whilst they ate. 

'Did you do this amount of checking on Edison?' Duncan asked, curious.

'What do you think?' Jimmy said, swallowing a mouthful of naan and blistering hot madras sauce.

'Stupid question,' Duncan admitted. 'Anyway, I have some meetings in Glasgow in December which I've rearranged for the twelfth to the fifteenth, so I'll be there when they arrive in the UK. And I will be taking the same flight back to the island with them.'

Jimmy could have leaned across the table and kissed him!

'Thought that would cheer you up,' Duncan said, seeing immediate relief in the set of Jimmy's shoulders and in his wide blue eyes.

'Thank you!' Jimmy mouthed at his co-parent.

'How long have you been planning that?' he asked, as Duncan signalled to the waiter for a couple of malts before they would order dessert.

'As soon as I saw his website. I still remember some of Fran's male friends from the London art scene. They make me look like monk.'

Jimmy accidentally inhaled his single malt instead of swallowing it.

'Fuck me,' he muttered, when he'd finished coughing.

'Thought you'd never ask,' Duncan purred, just as softly, whilst still patting him on the back.

'In your dreams, Hunter!' Jimmy replied, smartly.

Duncan made a moué of outrageously camp disappointment which was immediately spoiled by a wide smile.

'Oh, go fuck yersel!' Jimmy replied, smiling like a shark.

'And that was always way more fun wi' you,' Duncan grinned.

'You are incorrigible,' Jimmy laughed, in spite of himself.

 

November became gradually colder whilst the days suddenly went from eight hours of daylight to hardly any at all. Even the criminal element on the islands kept a low profile.

December arrived with a flourish of storm force winds and heavy rains. The days seemed even darker than usual. Sunrise at near enough nine a.m., low cloud cover and then completely dark again by three in the afternoon. By contrast the shops had gone mad with metres and metres of Christmas lights and decorations, trying to throw off the gloom with coloured bulbs and sparkling tinsel.

Duncan had called in on Jimmy the night before his flight was due to leave for Glasgow to help him put up the Christmas tree. Neither man particularly liked the job but Cassie would object if there was no tree in either house by the time she arrived. They had already decorated the rather moth-eaten specimen Duncan was using at his place two days earlier.

Fortifying themselves for the ordeal ahead with a couple of glasses of the decent red Duncan had brought with him and some rock and roll music which they both enjoyed they made a start. Jimmy had already brought the tree and the boxes of decorations down from the loft. Duncan opted to sort the lights out so Jimmy emptied the decorations in a pile on the breakfast bar and began the laborious process of getting the hooks on. 

Duncan had just got the lights on the tree and plugged them in when Jimmy's mobile rang; a discordant note in the convivial atmosphere. A shared glance before Jimmy answered and both men knew the evening would be coming to an abrupt end.

'Perez.'

Duncan turned the music down so Jimmy could hear whoever was on the other end of the call. When he turned back, Jimmy had his 'official' face on and he thought he could hear Sandy on the other end of the call.

'I'm sorry Duncan,' Jimmy apologised. 'A bunch of kids at a birthday party have been taken ill. Vomiting, disorientated, over-heating.'

'Food poisoning?'

'Paramedics said the symptoms are more like ingestion of cocaine. One wee girl who already has a heart problem is being rushed to hospital.'

'How old are they?'

'None of them are more than thirteen.'

'Dear God!'

'Not sure He's had a hand in this one.'

'Go on. I'll finish up here.'

'You don't have to, Duncan.'

'Oh yes, I do!' 

Jimmy smiled at him, whilst collecting his coat.

'I'll be sure to let our girl know you did your bit.'

'I'll hold you to that,' Duncan said, giving Jimmy a hug. 'Be careful.'

'You too. It's no' gonna to be a smooth flight tomorrow.'

'I'll keep you posted.'

'Aye, please do.'

The little house suddenly seemed very empty when Jimmy had left in a whirl of coat, slamming the door against the wind howling outside.

 

Jimmy was met at the party by Sandy who updated him quickly.

'Mostly the bairns were affected. A couple of the adults felt nauseous and complained of palpitations but they're recovering without treatment.'

'The little girl?'

'Catrina McDonald. She's recovering. Her cardiologist wants to keep her in overnight just to keep her monitored but he says no harm done. The hospital tested her stomach contents when she threw up. Positive for cocaine.'

Inside Tosh had sorted the partygoers into sections. Those who had been affected and those who hadn't. A scene of crimes officer was busy taking samples of all the food and drink available.

Cora, along with several paramedics, were busy checking those who were recovering.

'Cora?'

She reassured her patient then pulled Jimmy into the hallway where they could talk quietly.

'I would say that all the ones affected have ingested small, varying amounts of cocaine.'

'Not the usual method of taking that particular drug.'

'No. These days it's usually snorted or smoked, the high is more immediate but lasts a shorter amount of time. Historically, it was usually dissolved in warm water and then drank down. The high is more gentle that way and it lasts up to an hour.'

'How much coke are we talking here? Sounds like it would be an expensive way of making a kiddies party go with a swing.'

'Depends on purity, Jimmy. My worry is what it was cut with, that could be the biggest problem. Have you heard from the hospital about Catrina McDonald?'

'Aye. Tested positive for cocaine but she's recovering well.'

'Could be just luck here Jimmy. No-one is displaying any lasting effects so it could be a small amount of very pure stuff mixed in with some of the foodstuffs. Probably the cake.'

'Why the cake?'

'Davy Kay is type one diabetic. He was saving his piece of birthday cake to have later, after his insulin. He was the only child not affected.'

'That's a new one on me. Coke birthday cake.'

'Aye, new to me too. Not to mention how this could have turned out.'

'Thanks Cora.'

'Good luck in catching this maniac,' the doctor replied, going back inside to check on her patients.

'Tosh!'

'Sir.'

'Can you get the SOCO to do a quick test on the cake for cocaine?'

'Yes, sir. I've got the parents who were helping with the catering giving statements now. Everything apart from the birthday cake was made at home.'

'Where did they get the cake?'

'Mama Dees in Lerwick.'

'Get that test, quick.'

Within a couple of minutes Tosh came back as Jimmy was speaking to the parents of the birthday girl.

She waved a small test tube with blue fluid in it then whispered, 

'Positive on the cake, he's going through all the rest of the food now doing a quick colour test. Sending the cake off to get a more detailed reading, along with anything else which gives a positive reading.'

Unsurprisingly the parents who helped with the catering were more than slightly alarmed when informed that some of the food had been laced with a Class A drug; quickly followed by vehement denials that they had ever used any kind of drug let alone let their children near them.

They weren't even half way through taking statements when the SOCO passed Jimmy a note to say that the only item which had tested positive for coke was the birthday cake. Jimmy left Sandy in charge of finishing off taking the statements whilst he and Tosh got the address of the shop owner, courtesy of Billy, back at the station, then drove out to the house, making arrangements to meet up with two more SOCO's at the premises.

In his experience of dealing with drug users and abusers, Jimmy had built up a nose for when he was being lied to and played. The middle-aged couple, Mary and Brian Dees, and their daughter, Ishbel Byrne, who actually managed Mama Dees, were not lying. They were genuinely horrified that one of their products had been implicated in making children ill and could not have been more helpful.

They opened up the shop and the bakery to the SOCO's whilst Ishbel, went through all her paper work to track down the other special orders which had been baked and distributed for the previous week. Gladly ringing around her customers and asking them not to eat the cakes. For virtually all of the customers the call came too late. The items had been consumed and every crumb enjoyed, with no ill-effects. 

Testing continued well into the early hours of Sunday morning. Perez issued a temporary closure order on the shop and bakery until the tests were finished.  
He was still at his desk when Donny MacClean, the lead SOCO called him.

'All negative, Inspector.'

'What? Everything?'

'Everything. And for the record I've never seen a more spotless food preparation area. I also did quick colour tests for every other Class A drug and a few Class B's as well. Nothing. Ishbel did say the stores inventory doesn't tally with her records though.'

'What's missing?'

'Five stones of self-raising flour, two stones of plain flour and a one kilo drum of baking powder. They had a delivery on Wednesday, those are the items which are missing. And the back door to the bakery has had it's lock picked fairly recently, which hadn't been noticed.'

Jimmy took the name of the suppliers, MacClean promised him his report later on Monday and they said their goodbyes.

It didn't take a genius to work out that one or all of the missing items had been tainted. Just luck that more people hadn't been taken ill. Although he needed to check the local butter and cream used by the bakery too.

So, did that mean someone had a grudge against Ishbel Byrne and Mr and Mrs Dees? Or was it Mr and Mrs Booth, who had ordered the cake for their daughter, Maggie? Had the delivery been meant for someone else and it had just been an accident that that the drugs had been used to bake a cake? Was it one of the bakers who worked there? He didn't think that thirteen year old Maggie would be the intended victim here. Lots of possibilities.

He already had the names of the bakers and the Dairy Co-operative, who would be interviewed tomorrow. Or later on today, Perez amended, as he consulted his watch. Giving a weary sigh he put his coat on, and finally left his office at after three on Sunday morning.

When he arrived back at home, a softly glowing lamp had been left on, and the fire was still lit so the room was warm and welcoming. A savoury, appetising smell wafted through the kitchen too. He found a note on the kitchen worktop in Duncan's distinctive scrawl:-

Some chilli on the hob, just needs heating up. I'll text when I pick up Cassie and Philip.  
D.

The room looked tremendous. Duncan must have been there until late not only decorating the tree but putting up all the rest of the decorations around the room too, as well as cooking him some supper before he left. 

Jimmy switched the tree lights on whilst he ate his chilli and enjoyed a measure of the peace, quiet and spirit of Christmas which Duncan had left behind him.

 

Sunday afternoon was a let down. Sandy and Tosh had interviewed the bakers. Nothing suspicious and they were as upset as their employer that food which they had made had been found to be tainted.

Jimmy found the same reaction at the dairy. And, even more importantly, not a trace of drugs in the diary or distribution centre. He'd also interviewed the distribution centre where Dees bought their flour, again, nothing suspicious and no sign of an aspirin, never mind anything else. 

'There's nothing more we can do today. Get away home. We'll pick it up tomorrow morning,' Jimmy told his team.

Sandy had his coat on and was off out of the station like a rabbit. Jimmy watched Tosh tidy her desk slowly before putting her coat on. All her movements dispirited.

'Sir?'

'Aye.'

'What if this isn't some big supply network but just some personal use stuff?'

'Someone was intending their weekend to go with a swing but it got into the cake instead?'

'Mmm. We've found nothing. I know we haven't got the results back from Glasgow yet on probable amount and purity, but there isn't even a trace of any more.'

Jimmy sat on the edge of Sandy's desk facing Tosh. It had occurred to him that this might be a one off. It had also occurred to him that this might be a taster amount. An initial amount as a goodwill 'present' prior to more of the same coming onto the mainland for sale and distribution.

'I really hope it is, Tosh. I don't fancy trying to track down a new player in town with a new network.'

'We could go a speak to Michael,' she suggested.

Jimmy smiled at his sergeant. She was growing professionally by leaps and bounds and he would be sorry when she got her transfer but she was more than ready for a new patch and a chance at moving up the promotion ladder.

'That's where you're going now, isn't it?' she asked.

'You can either go and spend some time wi' your pals or you can come wi' me and we can have a word with Michael.'

Michael opened his front door, then stood aside to let both police officers into his humble home.

'Is this about the wee girl taken to hospital yesterday?' he asked immediately.

'What do you know, Michael?'

'Nothing about that. Heard it on the Shetland News. How is the poor lassie?'

'She's doing well,' Tosh replied. 'So you've no' heard of anyone new starting up then?'

'What was it she was given? News didne say.'

'Cocaine,' Jimmy replied. 'It was baked into the birthday cake.'

'Jezzus! This joker's a bampot! That's above ma touch, Mr Perez,' Michael replied, sitting down slowly in the only armchair in the room.

'None of yer pals mentioned anything?' Tosh persisted.

'Believe me, Sergeant Macintosh, if I knew who was giving snow to bairns I would have come into the station to tell ye.'

Jimmy waited a beat, making eye contact with Michael, then made for the door, saying,

'If ye hear anything, Michael.'

'You'll be the first to know, Mr Perez.'

Once they were back in the car and driving back towards the station, Tosh asked,

'Does he ever get to see his youngest boy?'

'Not as far as I know. After the boy was taken into care, his mother managed to o.d. in prison. He didn't raise any objections to the foster parents adopting him. Said he'd have a better life with them than with him.'

Tosh was silent for the rest of the drive, ruminating on Michael Dobby. A man who had shopped his girlfriend, the mother of his two boys, when the eldest died of a heroin overdose at nine years old, courtesy of his mother. His hatred of those who pushed drugs to children had been born out of his son's death.

It was dark and raining hard when Jimmy dropped Tosh off at home, at just after five in the afternoon before making his own way back home. Once at home he texted Duncan to check he'd arrived safely. The reply didn't arrive until an hour later.

Worst flight ever! Bloody weather!

The smiley face emoticon he sent wasn't well received.  
Thank you for supper and doing all the decorations.

He spluttered with laughter at the halo endowed smiley face he received back.

Jimmy spent the rest of the afternoon and evening working at home with a glass of red wine, the remains of Duncan's chilli and many cups of coffee. Working through police databases he couldn't find any similar occurrences of a snow cake so he switched to general internet searches. Whilst there appeared to be many recipes for hash cookies and brownies, no mention of a cocaine cake rewarded his searching.

After a few disturbed hours of sleep Jimmy decided to call it a day at just after five and got up for a shower and a shave. Something was bothering him about yesterday. Despite the early hour he was outside the back door of the still closed bakery at just after six o'clock. He wandered around the tiny delivery yard with the help of his torch and the light over the back door. 

There weren't any CCTV cameras focussing on the delivery yard. None of the shops either side had any either. The back of the shops faced the back of the another street of shops with the narrow Hanson Lane between them, a one way lane to facilitate delivery traffic without it becoming a bottleneck. Patiently Jimmy walked the length of the lane. The road at the top of the lane was for two way traffic. The set of traffic lights had a camera mounted on top of both sets of lights to catch motorists running a red light in either direction. At the bottom of the lane, two banks, with their own cameras, sat diagonally opposite each other. With a bit of luck they may just be lucky and see the vehicle which had been used to remove the flour from the bakery. 

By the time Sandy rolled into work just after nine, Tosh had already secured the traffic cameras and was busy checking the vehicles which had turned into the lane from Wednesday night to Saturday morning, leaving Sandy to speak to the banks and to try and get their CCTV footage for the same period.

After several, increasingly disgruntled conversations, Sandy left to retrieve the footage from only one of the banks. The other bank, after a lightly veiled threat of a charge of obstruction, finally admitted the camera was out of order and had been for the last two weeks. 

'How come you get the easy jobs,' he hissed on his way past.

'Because I get to work on time and if you want to swap, be my guest. This is going to take days!' she replied sharply.

'What's going to take days?' Jimmy asked, from his office.

'The CCTV, Sir. Hanson Lane is surprisingly busy.'

Jimmy came out of his office and stood behind her.

'Divide and conquer,' he said. 'Give me some of that, and ask Billy to get a couple of PC's assigned to help as well. You too Sandy, when you get the bank footage.'

'Sir.'

Tosh and Sandy shared a look, then Sandy threw her a cheeky wink.

Tosh was correct in her estimate, it was Wednesday afternoon before Billy found an image of a van which took far too long from turning into Hanson Lane to emerging at the other end.

'Twenty minutes, Sir,' he replied crisply when asked by Perez. 'Something else too, the number plate has been smeared with mud or something.' He brought up the best image which also showed the two occupants in the front of the van had woolly hats pulled down low on their faces and scarves across the lower part.

'This pair know what they're doing,' he said. 'We've got a date and a time now, Thursday night eleven oh five they turn into Hanson Lane and leave it at eleven twenty-seven, so we can try and track them through Lerwick. That number plate is going to stand out.'

'Well done Billy, let me know what you find.' Perez didn't bother to add that Tosh and Sandy would be helping.

Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking his phone chimed with a text alert.

Flight held up, too windy here for take off. We're going to stay over tonight and try again in the morning. Cassie is fine. And I can tell you for certain that Philip has absolutely no designs on our girl!

Will you need picking up tomorrow? And how do you know that? He might be as much of a player as you!

The reply was slower than he expected. About ten minutes later, Duncan texted back:-

You can pick Cassie up, I'll drive Philip to the place he's rented. Meiow! 

Jimmy waited a few minutes before texting:-

Well?

Think about it. 

Duncan!!

Put it this way, you'd have way more chance of getting him into bed than Cassie!

Ah!

Ah! The clang of the penny dropping.

Jimmy replied with his most childish emoticon, a cartoon animation of a boy sticking his tongue out.

The reply was a laughing face and 'C u tomoz.'

 

It was nearer lunchtime than morning when the plane finally landed at Sumburgh Airport. Cassie ran to her Dad and wrapped her arms around him. For a few minutes neither were aware of much other than each other. Then Cassie loosened her bear hug and Jimmy got his first good look at his daughter. Only it wasn't his little girl standing there, it was a sophisticated and poised young woman looking back at him. Over her head he caught sight of Duncan's sympathetic look. Jimmy sniffed then looked back at Cassie.

'You look amazing, love. Welcome home.'

'I've missed you, Dad!' she replied, diving back in for another hug. Suddenly remembering her manners, she pulled far enough away to say, '

'Dad, this is Phil Dixon, this is my Dad, Jimmy Perez.'

The tall, very slim, young man standing next to Duncan smiled and offered his hand.

'Good morning, Mr Perez, I'm very pleased to meet you.'

In an intense all over glance, Jimmy took in as much as he could; tall, around six feet, thick black hair, neatly cut, trimmed beard and 'tash even white teeth. Slim but deceptively muscled, deep blue eyes, pale skin with the shadow of a light tan. Someone who would burn easily in hotter climates, Jimmy surmised. Older than he looked, at first glance. Somewhere in his mid-to-late thirties.

'Call me Jimmy,' he replied smiling, shaking the proffered hand. 'Thank you for taking care of our girl.'

'Dad! I'm not a baby!'

'You'll always be our baby,' Jimmy said, gently, his eyes sliding back to his daughter and her fiery, blushing face.

 

Before they split up to their separate destinations, Cassie and Duncan made arrangements for them all to meet up at Duncan's for dinner that night so even if Jimmy did get called out, the rest of them could still eat. Jimmy dropped Cassie off at home then drove back to the station. 

Tosh had sent the best images across to the forensic lab at Glasgow for image enhancement and frequency filtering, hoping that something might bring up the license plate on the white van. But, as Billy remarked, the van may not even be registered on the island. It could have come across with the ferry and they'd be none the wiser. Annoyingly, the van 'disappeared' after passing the bank. Or more accurately, no white van was caught on CCTV going through Lerwick until the next morning. None of the ones which did show up had mud smeared number plates. 

The next step was to get hold of the registration details for all the white vans registered on the island as well as those which had arrived on the ferry for the previous week and which hadn't left before the first Friday morning sailing. 

'It's never like this on Taggart,' Sandy said, beginning the laborious task.

'The reality of being a detective, detective,' Billy replied, a grin on his face as he went to deal with a member of the public on the front desk.

 

Dinner was good, wine plentiful and the company excellent. And, for once, Jimmy got to stay and enjoy it all.

Philip, or Dix, as he insisted on being called, was entertaining. Cassie and he had a few stories to tell between them of life in Brazil.

After they'd eaten all four retired to the lounge. Dix deliberately chose a seat away from the other three. Duncan and Jimmy plied Cassie with questions not actually noticing Dix wasn't joining in with the conversation. When Jimmy looked around, quite some time later Dix had a sketch pad open and was busy; his hand moving fast against the paper, his eyes missing nothing. A small crease appeared between his eyes, a sign of his deep concentration.

Shortly afterwards Dix noticed the scrutiny.

'Don't worry about me. I need to draw something at least once a day. I haven't had chance to get today's fix yet!'

His smile was very disarming and sweet. Jimmy's stomach gave a peculiar jolt before he ruthlessly suppressed the half formed reaction. The only other man he'd ever had that response to was Duncan. And that was when they'd been a lot younger. Well before Fran and Cassie and all the years in between. Before their relationship had mellowed and alternated between the best of enemies and the best of friends. He was determined not to go down that route again. Then Dix sent another cheeky and attractive smile his way when his glass of good malt was at his lips. 

After Duncan had finished pounding him on the back and Cassie had been persuaded not to call for an ambulance, a cold glass of water materialised in front of him which he sipped at gratefully.

'I'm fine! Went down the wrong way, that's all.'

'Don't go bloody dying on me now,' Duncan ordered, sinking down onto the sofa again and wiping his pale face, Cassie beside him.

Jimmy realised his saviour with the water was Dix, who had returned to his sketch pad.

After that slight hiatus the party picked up and carried on in fine form. It was gone two in the morning before Cassie was yawning, Dix not far behind.

'Sorry, I'm still on Brazil time,' she apologised. 

'Na bother. Plenty of beds here. Your room's still as you left it, sweetheart,' Duncan said, kissing Cassie's hair.

'Please say you changed the sheets.'

'Can't remember,' Duncan admitted after a pause.

Jimmy snorted and drained his drink, standing unsteadily.

'Come on, Dix, I'll show you where to go.'

On their way, Jimmy ransacked the linen cupboard for clean sheets, pillowcases as well as pillows and blankets.

'Don't worry about Duncan's housekeeping, it's the maid's lifetime off,' he said, as he led the way into a spare bedroom. Dix laughed on cue.

In no time they had the bed made up, Dix had been pointed to the bathroom so Jimmy moved on and made up a bed for himself; leaving another set of sheets outside Cassie's door, just in case.

The wind battered the old house, draughts stealing in through every nook and cranny and billowing around the room Jimmy had chosen, as if the windows weren't there.

'Bloody hell Dunc, spend some money on this house!' Jimmy muttered, his teeth chattering.

Ten minutes later his door creaked open, light from the corridor spilling into the room.

'What are you doing here?' Duncan asked.

'Trying to overcome hypothermia and get some shut eye,' Jimmy snarled.

'Didna you notice the draught? Windows are getting replaced on Friday. Come on.'

Wrapping the blankets around himself, Jimmy hobbled after Duncan, into his own room.

'You want me to share your bed?'

'You want to make up another one?' Duncan asked, shedding his clothes without any modesty.

'Not really,' Jimmy admitted.

'Get in then. Don't snore.'

'That's rich, coming from the roof rattler.'

'Ha!'

Both men rolled into bed. Duncan hit the light and that was the last Jimmy knew until morning light cruelly stabbed him in the eyeballs. That and Duncan rolling over, shaking his shoulder, showing him the time on his mobile phone then, his hostly duty done, rolling back over to sleep.

Jimmy had had the forethought to book some time off for this morning. He'd really expected to be having a leisurely breakfast with his daughter before going into work, not waking up with the devil of a hangover in Duncan Hunter's bed. However, both scenarios meant he didn't have to rush off. He went back to his original room, and dressed quickly, making do with a quick face wash rather than a shower, before making his way to the kitchen, which was a good deal warmer than the rest of the house. Voices talking softly told him Dix and Cassie were already up.

'Morning Dad, do you want some breakfast?'

Jimmy's stomach gave a warning lurch.

'Just some tea and dry toast, love.'

Dix, still busy with his sketch pad looked up and grinned at him.

'Can't either of you have the grace to at least look like you were up half the night?'

'Younger livers, Dad. Cope better,' Cassie replied brightly, slapping a glass of water and two paracetamol on the kitchen table beside him.

He grimaced his thanks and waited until he'd eaten the toast before risking adding more chemicals to the mix.

When he was sure he could focus properly, he leaned over and asked,

'May I see?'

Dix nodded, added a final couple of touches then handed the pad over before picking up his coffee cup. 

He'd been working on a sketch of Cassie, half turned away from the coffee jug towards the middle of the kitchen. In just a few lines and shading he'd caught her expression perfectly. Her hair, her hands, the kitchen walls and equipment. It had so much depth and definition. Far more than a photograph would have done. Jimmy turned the page and found the drawing from the evening before. Duncan, Cassie and himself on the settee. The two men were laughing as Cassie was obviously telling a story, her hands in motion, her eyes bright. The foreground detail was amazing; each facial expression reproduced perfectly. Duncan's tinning hair, the lines which appeared on his own face when he laughed. Somehow Dix had even managed to capture the look of love and affection in both his and Duncan's eyes, when they looked at their daughter.

'These are incredible!' he breathed. 'You've got an amazing talent,' he added looking at Dix with respect.

Fran, Cassie's mother, had been a talented artist but even to his untutored eye he could see Dix was quite extraordinary.

Dix simply inclined his head at the praise, the smile on his lips and in his eyes as sweet as ever. He leaned forward slightly, touching Jimmy's face with the tips of his fingers, very gently and strangely impersonally.

'I'd like to do some more sketches of your face. It's interesting.'

'Cassie's a better subject,' he replied a little flippantly.

Cassie giggled. 'He likes character in his subjects.'

Dix smiled and lazily held out his hand to her. When she placed her hand in his, he kissed it, squeezed gently, then released her. It looked like an action which happened often between them.

'Do you remember Martitza?'

Dix groaned. 'How could I forget?' He turned to Jimmy and said, 'Beautiful woman, barely twenty years old, make-up a centimetre thick. So much botox she couldn't even smile properly. An extremely spoiled brat. I might as well have been drawing a plastic doll. Absolutely the worst commission I have even taken on.'

'Why did you do it, then,' Jimmy asked.

'To get her agent and her father off my back,' Dix answered honestly. 'They were driving me crazy. And, the money does come in useful,' he grinned.

'Is that why you've come to Shetland? To find faces with character?' Jimmy asked.

'If I see any I find interesting,' he replied, his gaze feeling like a caress over Jimmy's skin, so much so he almost missed the next part of his answer. 'I really want to get some landscapes. Cassie has told me so much about the islands I wanted to come and experience them for myself. I want to see Simmer Dim and Up Helly Aa, the storms, sunshine, the wildlife. Everything!'

'How long are you planning on staying,' Jimmy laughed.

'As long as it takes! Were you born on Shetland, Jimmy?'

'No. I was born on Fair Isle. Even smaller island than this one.'

He could have sworn Dix's eyes lit up at the news. He felt, more than saw, Cassie shake her head just as Dix opened his mouth to say something.

'Dad, do you want some bacon and egg?' Cassie asked, quickly.

Er. no thanks Cass.'

'Should we wake Duncan for breakfast?' Dix asked.

'I suppose we'd better check if he wants some of his own food,' Jimmy admitted.

'You go wake your partner and I'll put fresh coffee on.' Dix said, getting up and going to the filter coffee jug. 'I've bought some ground beans we drink in Brazil...' Dix stopped talking, suddenly aware of the silence in the kitchen. Turning round he was met with two very surprised faces.

'Partner?' both Jimmy and Cassie echoed.

'Oh! I have mis-understood? Sorry, just when Duncan and I were chatting the evening we arrived, after you'd gone to bed, Cass, he told me you and Duncan were together once. I saw you coming out of his room ...' he was interrupted by Cassie's exclamation of,

'Dad?'

'He told you what?'

'I thought you'd got back together,' Dix finished, weakly, his pale complexion flushing a brilliant scarlet. 'Was Duncan winding me up?'

Jimmy silently left the room. He could hear Cassie's voice, then Dix's, but not what they were saying as he took the stairs two at a time and barged into Duncan's bedroom.

'Oy! What the fuck do you mean telling Dix we were together once?'

'What?'

From the kitchen Cassie and Dix could hear Duncan's laughter. Quite a while later Jimmy, still annoyed, returned, closely followed by a smirking Duncan.

'I am so sorry, Mr Perez!' Dix was on his feet apologising. 

'It's no your fault, Dix. Blabbbermouth here should learn to keep it shut when he's had few. Cassie....'

'Dad, it's fine. I'd be a bit surprised but I wouldn't mind if you and Duncan wanted to get back together.'

'No!' Jimmy roared. 'I don't.'

'See, he never asks me,' Duncan grinned, kissing his daughter. 'Told you she's a bloody sight more open-minded than you thought.'

'Dad, you weren't really worried about what I thought, were you?'

It was Jimmy's turn to go red from embarrassment rather than anger. He mumbled something as Cassie put her arms around him.

'Dad, I don't care who you end up with as long as they make you happy. You deserve that, more than anything.'

Jimmy felt his eyes pricking with emotion. His daughter really had turned out to be an amazing human being.

'Um, I should go,' Dix said, collecting his sketch pad and his bag together.

'Don't be daft! Just Jimmy getting on his high horse. Stay as long as you want,' Duncan replied, retrieving a bottle of orange juice from the fridge.

Jimmy shot Duncan a filthy look before endorsing, wholeheartedly. Duncan's invitation.

'That's very kind, but really, I do need to sort the house out.'

'Where are you staying?'

'Out near Maywick.'

Jimmy looked at his daughter, his arm around her shoulder. 'Are you ready to come home or do you want to spend some more time with your reprobate father?'

She punched him lightly on the arm. 'I'll stay a bit longer. Am I going to see you tonight or will I have to go to the station?'

'I should be home. Do you need a lift Dix?'

'No thanks, I drove myself. Got a rental car until I can pick up another.'

 

After his bumpy start to the morning, the rest of the day was relatively smooth for Jimmy. Sandy and Tosh were still checking white van registrations. And, even better, no more incidents of involuntary cocaine use had been reported. Jimmy had lifted the closure order on Mama Dees; it was feeling almost like a fading nightmare. Not that Jimmy was short of work. He still had plenty to do.

That evening Cassie and Jimmy had a nice relaxed evening in, before she was due out on the first flight to Glasgow.

'Oh, I nearly forgot. Dix asked if we'd all like to go to his place for dinner on the 22nd.'

'Why?'

'He's my friend. Reciprocal arrangement.'

'He's still feeling guilty, isn't he?'

'And, yes, a bit of guilt thrown in.'

'He does understand about work?'

'He does.'

'Is he no going to see his own folks for Christmas?'

'His Dad died about eighteen months ago and he never really knew his Mum, she died when he was a baby.'

'No siblings?'

Cassie shook her head.

Well, that explained a little why she and Dix had hit it off so well, similar backgrounds.

'You going to be back in time?'

'Weather allowing, should be back on 21st.'

'My daughter, the businesswoman,' Jimmy said proudly.

 

Cassie had arranged for Dix to take her to the airport so her Dad could get to work. He waved to Jimmy from the car, but didn't go in.

In the days following Jimmy seemed to catch sight of Dix at least a couple of times a day. The first day it was around Lerwick. They just waved across the street to each other. Jimmy swallowed hard when Dix's smile seemed to take his breath away.

Sandy tracked the mysterious van down as one which arrived on the ferry on Wednesday and left on Saturday morning. Following it via traffic cams, it appeared to have made four other deliveries, apart from Mama Dees. Which was the reason Jimmy found himself visiting a restaurant on the west coast of the island, whilst Tosh and Sandy took the other three premises.

Jimmy drove past Dix sitting on the cliffs looking out to sea, well wrapped up, his sketch pad across his knees, a camera at his feet.

The restaurant manager hadn't had any break-ins, nothing was missing. His stores tallied with what he should have had. A bust. 

On the way back he stopped and got out where Dix was drawing a seascape, the waves, white topped, the whole atmosphere of his sketch broody, menacing and absolutely mesmerising.

Without looking up, Dix said, 'I thought that was you going past a while back.'

'Aye.'

'You didn't get what you wanted?'

Jimmy wrinkled his nose and shrugged.

Dix put down his sketch and picked out a plastic box from the canvas bag between his feet, opened it and offered Jimmy the pick of the contents. Then he poured coffee from a thermos, offering Jimmy a cup of a well roasted, mellow coffee.

'There are good scones. Where'd you get them?' Jimmy asked.

'Out of the oven last night.' He laughed at Jimmy's impressed face. 'They're not difficult, honest.'

'For you, maybe.'

He laughed again. 'I thought Cas was exaggerating when she said she used to do most of the cooking, growing up.'

'Self-defence,' Jimmy admitted. 'I can do pasta and sauce and that's about it.'

The following day Jimmy received a text just around twelve-thirty, from a number he didn't recognise.

Are you free for lunch?

Who is this?

Dix.

How did you get my number?

Your daughter gave it to me.

Where are you?

Loitering with intent, outside the police station.

 

Lunch was very nice, in a nearby pub. Dix was a breath of fresh air after having spent the morning chasing up nebulous leads on a bakery owner Tosh had interviewed the day before, he'd seemed evasive.

'I don't usually get a decent lunch,' Jimmy said. 'Thank you.'

'Not the best lasagne I've tasted,' Dix replied.

'Oh, fighting talk.'

'Come round to mine for dinner, tomorrow, and I'll prove it.'

Jimmy was about to agree when his subconscious connected the dots in the direct gaze of the blue eyes in front of him. He licked his lips and lowered his voice.

'Are you...asking me on a date?'

'Would it be a problem?'

Jimmy thought his answer through.

'I don't think it would be a good idea,' he replied carefully.

'For your career? Thought the police were gay friendly, these days?'

'Maybe down South, not so much up here.'

'We could be discrete,' Dix cajoled.

'Discrete? Here? The main island hobby is gossip!' He paused. 'I'm not sure I'm ready,' he replied honestly.

Dix turned all his attention on his companion before asking,

'Is that; never going to be ready for an openly gay relationship? Or, maybe at some point?'

Jimmy looked down at his empty plate, fiddling with his neatly places knife and fork.

'I don't know,' he replied quietly.

'Not a definite no, then.'

Jimmy grinned, in spite of himself. 'Are you always this persistent?'

'Only when it's something I really, really want.'

 

Jimmy wandered back to the station deep in thought. He was attracted to Dix but whether he was ready for a relationship, given that the last two people he'd been involved with had ended up either dead or needing hospital treatment. He certainly didn't want to put Dix under any risk, which made him psychologically ambivalent about getting emotionally involved with the man.

As soon as he got inside Billy called to him.

'Boss, the met office has given out a notification, Storm Eileen is on the way. Due to hit tomorrow afternoon.' He handed Jimmy the printout showing a red warning, 80-95 mph gale force winds. Levels which could cause structural damage, power outages and risk to life. Just to make it even more interesting, sleet and snow would be in the mix too.

'Traffic got the warning?'

'Aye, boss.'

Station personnel had been through a lot of storm warnings, not that many red warnings; but quite a few amber ones happened every winter . They knew what to do and made preparations accordingly. Colleagues in Traffic has their patrols ready to go; weather warnings went out on social media, The Shetland Times, online and BBC local radio services. People on the islands made sure they were stocked up with candles, food and water.

'Sir, we managed get a half decent profile shot of the van driver getting back on the ferry.' Tosh put a picture down on his desk before continuing. 'And we did a search on stolen vans in the last couple of weeks on the mainland.'

'How many thousand did you get back on that one?'

'A lot! But, these two sort of jumped out at me.' She pointed to the highlighted entries on another sheet. 'Both companies make deliveries here, in Shetland, to various places. And both have reported a van stolen in the last couple of weeks.'

'Not found torched anywhere?'

'Not as yet but Sandy has been running searches through PNC for all white van regs coming in on the ferry.'

Jimmy looked at Tosh, his lips turning up in a smile. No wonder Sandy had been chained to his desk longer than usual lately.

'He found this one. Belongs to a blue Vauxhall Vectra reported stolen from L8 district of Liverpool. Came in, attached to a bakery delivery van, on the ferry, two days ago. The previous number plate was from a red Toyota, reported as scrapped in Glasgow.'

'Clever. Change the number plates every time. Have you got this out to Traffic?'

'Not yet, I wanted to run it past you first.'

Jimmy nodded. 'Do it. With this storm coming up, it's going to be an ideal time to shift stuff around. We'll all be too busy. Get an alert out. Report, don't stop. Let's see where these wee buggars are dropping their drugs on my island. Well done, Tosh.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'I'll put out some feelers to Liverpool and Glasgow. See if they know of any new firms with expansion plans.'

To say Jimmy was busy for the rest of the day would be an understatement. He barely had time to drink a coffee never mind eat until gone nine. Wearily he made his way home, made himself a cup of tea and grabbed a handful of crackers and a lump of cheese for a scratch meal. Crunching through the hard biscuits he thought longingly of the offer of a fresh cooked lasagne which he had turned down. Probably a good red to go with it too. Then another thought struck; Dix was a sooth moother, he also seemed to spend most of the daylight hours out with his camera and sketch pad. Taking out his mobile, he dialled.

'Jimmy?'

'Aye, it's me.'

'Hallo me,' Dix's voice softened, as if he was smiling into the phone.

Jimmy tried to keep the shiver currently running down his spine out of his voice. He cleared his throat then asked,

'Have you seen the weather report?'

'No. No TV here.'

'Does that cottage no have a radio, preferably battery operated.'

'I haven't a clue. Why? What have I missed?'

'Met office have issued a storm warning, Storm Eileen will be striking the mainland, early afternoon tomorrow. You'll need to make sure you have plenty of food in, bottled water, candles and I hope you packed your thermals. What's the heating in the cottage? Peat?'

'Yes, and some logs as well.'

'Get as much as you can inside so you don't have to leave the building.'

'How bad is this going to get?' Dix's voice sounded suddenly very precise.

'Eighty to ninety-five miles per hours winds. Sleet and snow. Possible structural damage and power outages.'

'Will the shops be open now?'

'No. Get out early and do your shopping. And get a battery radio. Radio Orkney and local BBC radio stations will give you updates.'

There was a silence at the other end of the phone.

'Dix? You alright?'

'Yeah. Just writing everything down. Should have been more prepared. Been in a few tropical storms but don't tend to get snow with those.'

Jimmy laughed. 'You'll know more about storm force winds than us.'

'Possibly not. Main problem is usually getting out of the way of flooding and mud slides.'

'Duncan said you're out at Maywick. If you're near the cliffs you'll be OK. Never known the sea to get that high.'

Dix gave a soft laugh. 'Thanks for the call, Jimmy.'

'You're welcome.'

Tired as he was, it took Jimmy quite a while to fall asleep that night.

Jimmy was in bright and early next morning. Already the weather was closing in. Squalls of rain and wind buffeted and chased him across the car park so his coat was dripping by the time he gained the safety of the station porch. Almost as soon as he sat down at his desk his phone started ringing. Calls coming in from Liverpool Drugs Squad. Emails with names and faces on the back of the telephone calls. Then Glasgow rang and added their lists to the growing pile. Gradually traffic calls began to overtake the calls from other police forces on the UK mainland. In the middle of all the noise and tension his mobile rang. He made the decision to reject the call when he saw it was Dix. He just didn't have time for the man at the moment. And if he was genuinely serious about wanting to get into a relationship with an Inspector in Police Scotland the sooner the realised the work came first, the better.

His mobile rang twice more, both times were Dix. The third time was when he was speaking to an Inspector Feldman in Manchester. Quickly he sent a terse text - Busy. Speak later.

Inspector Feldman had some very interesting information.

'I'd advise caution, Inspector Perez, when approaching this lot. They have no hesitation in removing anyone who gets in their way.'

'What's the estimated worth of this pipeline?' Jimmy asked.

'Millions. We reckon in the region of one hundred and sixty million pounds, on the street.'

'That's UK wide?'

'No. That's just this pipeline. They rule by fear, so getting anyone to talk is tough. So far we knew the pipeline started at Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow and it looks like you're the Northern end, Inspector Perez.'

We've only had one incident so far. The stuff was extremely pure but very little of it.'

'Their product is very pure, hence the high value. Could be a taster. Did you get the coke from a known dealer?'

Jimmy explained how they'd gotten involved.

'That could have been accidental. Someone new either cutting it wrong or getting the coke and cutting agent mixed up. Whoever made the error may already have been dealt with. As I said, they are ruthless.'

Jimmy could hear ominous clicks, whistles and buzzing on the line as the weather outside began to affect the power and telephone lines.

'Inspector Feldman, I think we're about to get cut-off. We have Storm Eileen battering us. Can you send as much information as you can to me.' He rattled off his email address just as the line went dead.

Billy gave a perfunctory knock on the door and strode in without waiting for an invitation.

'Boss, you need to see this.'

'Haven't got time, Billy.' Jimmy replied, getting into his computer.

'Now, Sir, it's important.'

Billy laid the unfolded sheet of sketch pad paper on his desk. Two men's faces looked out at him, full face and profile. One of them was obviously the man who had driven the white van onto the ferry, the other was unknown. A drawing of a white van, one of the ones stolen form the Liverpool bakery distributor, and the number plate they already knew was false. There was a message on the paper too:-

Jimmy,

Had a minor accident with this van this morning, I was coming into Lerwick, they were going towards Maywick. They happily paid cash for the damage to my car rather than get insurance companies involved. Van was packed to the gills with large tins of baking powder. Both men are English, Manchester area accents. I've seen the van hanging around the little Italian place a couple of miles further up the coast from the cottage. Driver's mate looked as high as a kite. In view of the cocaine in the cake, thought you should know. Sorry I disturbed you earlier.

Dix.

 

'When did he bring this in?'

'About ten, boss.'

Jimmy checked his watch, after one now.

'Sorry, it's wild out there, didn't remember until a few minutes ago.'

'Aye, OK Billy,' Jimmy said as his dialled Dix's mobile. 

The call connected, rang then went to voicemail. He tried again, then again. He was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

'Tosh!' he yelled, grabbing his still damp coat and shrugging his way into it.

'Sir?'

'Get that van stopped. Approach with extreme caution. Suspects are dangerous and could be armed. Get these drawings sent out, all ports. And what's the name of that Italian place a couple of miles further up from Maywick?'

'The Pic? Piccoli Segretti.'

'Aye. Take a few big lads from uniform with you. The van has been seen at the restaurant for the last couple of days. Shake 'em until something comes loose.'

'Where will you be, Sir?'

'Making sure the man who got us this information is still in one piece.'

Jimmy was just hot footing it out of the door and into what felt like the maw of hell, horizontal rain and wind which threatened to knock him over, when Sandy caught up with him.

'Not on your own, Inspector,' Sandy shouted at the top of his voice, fastening up his yellow waterproof. 'Do you have a survival pack in your car?'

'No!' Jimmy yelled, frustrated and angry.

Sandy pushed another police issue waterproof jacket at him as a long wheelbase police Land Rover drove in and stopped beside the two men, rocking on it's suspension in the screaming wind.

'Report of an abandoned car on the road near the old McCullen place. Car's leased by Philip Andrew Dixon. We're coming with you,' the passenger, PC MacKenzie shouted through the window.

'I'll follow you up,' Jimmy shouted back. Sandy nodded and got into the Land Rover with the Traffic police.

Despite the roads being quiet it was very difficult to make headway against the extremely strong winds. Holding his vehicle on the road took most of his strength. Before long his forearms were singing with the strain. The traffic officers took the next right, cutting across the island which also meant both vehicles were no longer driving straight into the westerly wind. Jimmy knew driving would become tough again once they got onto the coast road. 

The journey took the best part of an hour before the Land Rover pulled in in front of a small Ford Fiesta. It was too dark now with the storm, to see the colour apart from when his headlights lit it up. Blue. With difficulty he exited his car and fought his way to the Fiesta. Shining his torch through the back window he saw the back seat was full of shopping bags. Moving round, the front passenger seat held two sketch pads. Dix's camera in the foot well, keys still in the ignition. The front passenger side wing had long white scrapes down the paintwork and was crumpled around the headlight housing.

Sandy was struggling his way towards him, leaning heavily against the wind and sheets of freezing rain. They had to be nearly touching before they could hear each other.

'The lease documentation gives his address as Sea Spray Cottage. We'll go and check he's there. You coming?'

Jimmy shook his head, 'I'll check around here. Take his car with you.'

He waited until the powerful vehicle and the smaller car moved off then shone his torch around the wide area of rough grazing which separated the road from the cliff edge. Well, the fact that the car moved ruled out breakdown as the reason for it being abandoned. And whoever had reported the car as abandoned had shut the doors, which had apparently been left open.

He turned towards the cliff, this close the sheets of rain coming across the Atlantic at him tasted salty and stung his skin like thousands of ice cold needles. Jimmy walked further up, along the side of the road, but he couldn't see any body. Retracing his steps back to his own car he saw tyre tracks in the grass. Too big for the Fiesta but not big enough for the Land Rover. Could be the van. He turned, pointing his torch directly into the incoming rain and walked forward towards the edge of the cliffs. As he got nearer the edge he went to his hands and knees. His trousers were already soaking wet and had been since he left the police station in Lerwick. He crawled forwards to present less of a target to the wind which was swirling dangerously around the rocky edge. The force of it enough to make breathing difficult when facing the oncoming gusts, the rain almost blinding him.

If Dix had fallen or been thrown over the edge he would certainly be dead. The sea may or may not give back his body in a few days. But he had to take a look. To know, for sure. By the time he was close enough to see over the edge he was flat against the spiky, hardy grass.

His torch illuminated the black water heaving and boiling below as it hammered against the rocky walls, spray reaching up in long spumes and being blown across the grass, to the road and beyond, merging with the rain. The usual rocks at the cliff base were completely covered by water now.

Carefully he inched sideways, playing the light along the line of the cliff and the sea. He had no idea how long he'd been doing this when he felt and saw a muddy patch where the grass, which held on with a powerful grip, had been ripped up, then his torch picked out something white about fifteen feet below him. It was a ledge which extended out from the cliff side. His heart gave a leap in his chest as the white thing resolved itself into a very pale face. Whether it was Dix or one of the van's occupants, he couldn't make out. One hand was resting near the man's face, his clothing so wet it shone in the light. 

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as loud as he could but there was no reaction from the body below. He shone his torch along the ledge which widened out a few feet further along and led upwards at a slight angle. Excitedly Jimmy could see a way down to the body but about half way along the ledge completely disappeared before resuming to come up to the top of the cliff. The break in the path was far too wide to even contemplate jumping across. He swore volubly. It looked as if some malevolent sea giant's hand had reached up and simply snatched the middle of the rocky path away.

Headlights moving slowly towards him on the road signalled the return of the police Land Rover. He waved his torch to signal his position.

Land Rover and man met in the middle of no man's land between road and cliff edge. They waved Jimmy into the back seat with Sandy so they could at least speak without screaming at each other.

'There's a body on a ledge about fifteen feet down. I thought I could walk down and get him but there's a section of the ledge missing,' he reported breathlessly.

The driver, Sergeant McGillan, Dave, nodded. 'Happened about ten years ago. We could use the winch but not sure we can get him safely back up on a stretcher with the wind as it is.

Mackie, PC Malcolm Mackenzie said, 'We'll take a look.' He switched on the four large lamps on the Land Rover's roof. Dave pointed to two big powerful torches on the seat beside Sandy, who passed them across as the two men exited the vehicle.

'Is it Philip Dixon? Is he alive?'

'Don't know for sure if it's him. He's lying on his left side and he's unresponsive.'

'Mackie and Dave are the best rescue men we have.'

'Jimmy nodded.

Mackie and Dave climbed back into the cab a few minutes later, water sloughing off their waterproof coats and trousers in sheets.

'We can't get him back up in this wind, it's too strong,' Mackie began. Before Jimmy had opened his mouth to object Mackie forestalled him. 'He's about six to ten feet from a cave which goes back into the cliff. The tunnel beyond bears left then does a sharp right and opens out into a largish area, about twelve feet across and maybe five high. One of us will go down, with supplies, get him into the cave and wait out the storm. Then we can get him to safety.'

'I'll do it,' Jimmy said immediately.

Mackie exchanged looks with his colleague, then Dave said,

'Inspector Perez, you could end up sitting inside that cave, for the next however many hours, with a corpse. And it may not be the man you're looking for.'

'The body matches his size and build,' Jimmy replied. 'I think it is Dix, Philip Dixon. He's been a good friend to my daughter and he got us information which could take out a high value cocaine pipeline. It's the least I can do for him. If it isn't Dix, we still need to get him off that ledge and you two are the ones who know how to operate the winch and have the safety training.' He didn't need to add that he was also the ranking officer.

Dave took him through what he needed to do once he'd been lowered down to the ledge whilst Mackie filled out the risk assessment forms. After his list of instructions, Dave pointed to a khaki rucksack just behind the seat where Jimmy was sitting.

'Dry cords, socks, boots and waterproof trousers. Get changed. Sir.'

'Sergeant.'

Jimmy signed off the risk assessment forms as the two officers got out to begin their preparations. Jimmy used the reverse of two more sheets to scribble two further notes.

'In case neither of us gets out of that cave, give this note to Cas and this one to Duncan Hunter,' he said, handing both notes, folded over to Sandy. 'And if that is Philip Dixon on the ledge, I want him commended for bravery.'

'You're convinced this is murder, not just an accident?' Sandy asked, taking both notes and putting them in an inside pocket.

'Inspector Feldman from Manchester told me this crew are ruthless,' Jimmy said, as he changed his soaking trousers and got the boots on. 'Whoever made the mistake of getting cocaine in the cake has probably already been dealt with permanently. And I'm hoping this is attempted murder, not murder.'

Through the windscreen, Dave was waving Jimmy out of the Land Rover.

'Good luck, Sir,' Sandy said, there was no time for further words as the door slammed shut in the wind behind him.

Standing directly in front of him, Dave said, 

'Remember, do NOT take this harness off before you're in that cave. You will be lowered down on the winch cable, which is metal. We will lower down a rucksack with supplies once you've got the man into the cave. You'll have to carry out the main triage once you're both out of danger, assuming he's still alive. Again, assuming he's still alive, put the neck brace on him before moving him into the cave. Last chance Inspector Perez. Do you really want to do this?'

'Yes!' Jimmy was quite proud that his shouted affirmation didn't shake.

Dave strapped Jimmy into the harness, it was similar to a parachute harness; over the shoulders and between the legs. Dave tightened the shoulder part then said,

'Stand up as straight as you can, Sir.' Then he pulled the lower straps to tighten up the straps between his legs.

Jimmy blew out a breath and wiped his face. At least the rain covered his eyes watering. And he didn't like Sergeant David McGillan's knowing grin one bit.

'Necessary evil, Sir,' he shouted cheerfully.

'Who for?' Jimmy muttered, thinking luckily he wasn't planning any additions to his family.

Dave handed him a blue tooth headset then a crash helmet, which was again tightened and it's headlight switched on. Dave put the transmitter unit in his arm pocket, after switching it on, then zipping up the pocket. A neck brace went into his right hand hip pocket, again, zipped in.

'Radio check. Testing one, two three,' Sounded in Jimmy's ear.

'Check. What's the range?'

'Five miles,' Dave replied.

'Wind speed is climbing,' Mackie's voice sounded in his ear.

Both Jimmy and Dave turned towards the cliff edge. Dave attached Jimmy's harness to the metal winch cable and screwed the connecting karabina clip shut, then told Jimmy to check the connection was secure too.

'Mackie's voice in his ear intoned his instructions,

'Walk backwards slowly. Don't look down. Keep your eyes straight ahead, focus on the rock face. The cable will pay out slowly at your pace. Just keep on walking down until you get to the ledge.'

'Understood. One more thing, once me and the rucksack are lowered down, I'm ordering you three to get to safety. The edge of this cliff is not a safe zone. Do you understand?'

The two faces looking back at him were neither pleased, nor happy. Two grudging replies of 'Sir,' came to him through the ear piece.

Jimmy fought against the wind to walk backwards to the cliff edge. It felt like he was pushing back against a physical presence. At the edge he stopped, took a deep breath then walked off the edge into the unknown.

His world contracted to one point of focus; the metal cable in front of his eyes. Agonisingly slowly his feet took one step after another. The wind pressed him close to the cliff. After having to fight against it's force above, down here it was keeping him plastered close to the uneven rocky face, which did mean he was battered against the unforgiving stone quite a few times. He speedily adapted to the buffeting down drafts, knowing one was going to hit when the force at his back lessened momentarily. He stayed in one place and rode them out.

Dave's voice cut into his concentration.

'You're about five feet above the ledge, Sir. You're doing well.'

He felt like he'd been doing this for hours and he'd only done ten feet.

'Three more steps should do it. The body's head is to your right. You should feel the ledge on your next step.'

The jar as his heel hit a flat surface startled him, despite the warning. He stood for a moment clinging to the cable, feeling his legs shake.

'Are you OK, Inspector?'

'I'm fine,' he gasped out.

Slowly he looked to his right, then looked away back to his cable. The roiling sea beyond the ledge made him feel dizzy and sick. Taking a huge deep breath he tried again, this time making sure he concentrated his sight on either rock or the man at his feet. Bending he took a good look at the man's face. Even from the odd angle he knew him.

'It's Dix. Philip Dixon,' he said. 

He pulled off a glove and pressed Dix's neck. At first he couldn't feel anything in the marble cold flesh. He moved his fingertips further under his jawline, quite close to his oesophagus. There! A faint, slow, irregular beat under his hand.

'I've got a pulse! It's faint and unsteady but there.'

'Good. He's going to be hypothermic as well as any other injuries he's sustained. Can you see the entrance to the cave? It will be to your left.'

Jimmy moved his head to illuminate the cliff until he spotted a darker patch. He felt his way towards it then ducked inside. The cessation of wind against his body almost made him stumble but he carried on, silently measuring the number of crawling paces he was taking. Five on hands and knees, as the tunnel went left then the bend to the right and almost immediately the space opened out just as Mackie had described it. Some water was beginning to run down the walls but it was certainly drier than outside. The fine, soft sand on the floor of the cave stuck to his waterproofs as he turned to leave. When he emerged back onto the ledge the wind seemed to have increased in strength.

'I'm going to put the neck brace on,' Jimmy told the men up top.

Carefully supporting Dix's head whilst he pressed the brace under his chin then he threaded the straps through the holes at the back. His right hand was getting numb with cold and sensation was diminished in his gloved left. It took two tries but at last the brace was tight. Jimmy just prayed he wasn't going to aggravate any other injuries as he moved him inside.

He knelt then very slowly he kept up a gentle traction, crawling backwards which moved them both nearer to the small cave mouth. Eventually Dix was lying on the sandy floor, water from his soaking wet clothing running into the area around him. Jimmy made the unilateral decision there and then, that was the designated wet spot.

'Lower the rucksack,' he said, crawling back to the outside world.

The rucksack was jumping about on the rope when he emerged, just in front of the entrance. Gratefully he grabbed it, dragged it inside before detaching the rope, then he undid the screw on the karabina which held the winch cable attached to his harness.

'Rope detached, cable detached,' he said, crisply. 'Now you three, get to safety.'

'Sir, we've found a place nearby. We will still be in range of the radio.'

'OK, good.'

Jimmy watched the rope and cable snake out with mixed feelings. Stupid, he chided himself. He was still in radio contact with Mackie and Dave and Sandy was with them. He had had the same first aid training as everyone and he'd done well. Enough sentiment, time for action. First objective, he needed to get out of his waterproofs and out of that insanely tight harness. When he hit the release button on his chest and the catch disengaged he gave an involuntary grunt as the pressure on his family jewels disappeared.

'Harness released OK, Sir,' Dave's voice deadpanned in his ear.

'Aye, and ma balls are verra grateful!'

Quickly he stripped out of his wet weather gear so he could work easier, then got the emergency response aid kit out of the rucksack. First thing, triage the patient. He stuck the ear sensor of the electronic thermometer down the nearest ear canal and pressed the button.

'Twenty-nine point three degrees.'

'Severe hypothermia,' Mackie pronounced.

'Getting him out of his wet clothing and into a survival bag,' Jimmy intoned, suiting his actions to his words. Almost immediately his hand found a patch of rain diluted blood on the side of Dix's head.

'He has a head injury, left side. It's not bleeding much at the moment.'

'That will change as he warms up.' Dave, this time.

Jimmy was way ahead, unwrapping a gauze pad with attached bandage. 

As he continued to undress Dix, Jimmy treated the lengthening series of injuries as he uncovered them; suspected broken left arm, heavily bruised, possibly broken left ribs, bruised abdomen, bruised back over the kidney area, what appeared to be defensive and offensive wounds on both hands and forearms.

'He's had a hell of kicking,' Jimmy finished with, as he carefully rolled Dix onto one of the opened survival bags, basically a fleece lined, high tech sleeping bag, and zipped the other one on top. Then he pulled the mylar bivvy bag up over both bags, shed his own clothes quickly, leaving his crash helmet light propped up nearby, and slid in beside the injured man, on his less injured side.

Spreading as much of his own body across Dix as he could wasn't a pleasant experience due to Dix's abnormally low body temperature. It triggered his own shivering mechanism making his teeth chatter.

'Inspector, there are protein bars in the front pocket of the rucksack. You need to eat to keep your core temperature stable to help Mr Dixon.'

'Got them.'

He chewed his way through two of the high calorie bars and took sips of water from the bottle provided. Nothing to do but wait now.

For the first time the wind whistling past the cave entrance impinged on his consciousness. It sounded like an old-fashioned steam engine's whistle. High pitched and breathy. As the wind grew in intensity the gaps between the whistling grew shorter until it was a continuous noise, although hardly a breath of air reached them inside the cave.

'Mackie?'

'Yes?'

'How did you know about this cave?'

He heard a breath of a laugh. 

'We used to take the ledge path and use it as a den when we were kids.'

Jimmy smiled. 'Bet your ma and da didn't know about that.'

'Nope!'

After a pause, Jimmy asked,

'Where did you find to hole up?'

There was a background sound of Sandy's voice. Then Mackie replied,

'We're in Mr Dixon's cottage. We're about a hundred yards away.'

Jimmy laughed as he checked Dix's temperature again. Coming up nicely, thirty point five degrees. He already knew his heart beat was more regular as he'd had his right hand resting on his chest, feeling each beat under his palm.

He must have dozed for a while, lulled by the whistling wind and the soporific slow heart heat under his hand. He was jerked out of his comfortable place when the world began to shake. Jimmy's eyes snapped open. Automatically he put one arm out of the survival bags onto the sandy floor. The world wasn't shaking, he was. Or more accurately the body next to his was shaking, violently.

'He's shivering!!' Jimmy announced, reaching for the thermometer. 'His temp is thirty two point two.'

'That's brilliant!' Mackie said.

'immy?' Dix whispered, hardly more than a breath.

'I'm here.'

'Cold,' Dix slurred, then he tried to sit up, an action which terminated in groan of agony.

'No, no, no. Don't try to move,' Jimmy counselled, helping the other man to lie down again.

'God, I hurt!' Dix frowned, his whole face creasing up as bruises and broken bones reported in. 'Feel sick,' he added.

'If you're gonna hurl, let me know.'

Dix nodded, a barely there gesture.

'What happened?' he asked softly.

'I was hoping you could tell me.'

'Can't remember,' he whispered, his right hand coming up to cover his closed eyes from even the meagre light in the cave.

'Alright, don't worry about it. One a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst, how's the pain level?'

'Eleven,' he slurred. 'Jimmy, is that you?'

'Yes, it's me.'

'Why am I so cold?'

Mackie's voice crackled down his earpiece,

'The confusion and memory problems could be hypothermia or the head injury.'

'He needs some pain relief,' Jimmy said softly.

'Aye, but not sure with the head injury.'

'We can't leave him like this.'

'Who are you talking to?' Dix asked.

'Colleagues, on the other end of my radio. Dix, can you open your eyes?'

'Rather not.'

'Please try, I need to check your pupils.'

With a lot of effort Dix managed to slit open his eyes. Jimmy sat up so he wouldn't have to move.

'Sorry, you need to open them a bit more.'

Taking a deep breath, he closed then opened his eyes completely. Quickly Jimmy checked pupil dilation and light reaction. His left eye was a little slower than his right. Quite suddenly Dix said,

'Gonna be sick!'

Jimmy turned him onto his side supporting him as best he could whilst Dix emptied his stomach of fluids into the sand, then flopped back against Jimmy, even paler, a clammy sweat breaking out on his skin.

'Oh, my head!'

Jimmy wiped his mouth then let him rinse out, whilst searching the aid kit. He found three morphine styrettes in a separate pocket.

'How many of the styrettes can he have?' Jimmy asked.

'One for now. I'm making a note of the time.'

Jimmy punched the styrette into Dix's upper arm then massaged the muscle to encourage dispersal.

'Keep him quiet and still as possible,' Mackie advised.

Without jostling him, Jimmy slid back in at Dix's side, conscious he was still very cold.

About thirty minutes later, Dix turned carefully towards Jimmy and burrowed as closely into him as he could.

'Pain relief kicking in?' Jimmy asked very softly, gathering him close.

Dix nodded. 'Did you get my message?'

'Loud and clear. Tosh should have rounded up the ones at the restaurant and uniform will have the van by now.'

'I was coming back with shopping. They were waiting for me. They started laying into me.'

Jimmy continued stroking his back, keeping his movements calm, unhurried. 'Then what happened?'

'Fuzzy after that,' Dix whispered. 'Flying. Flying or falling. Did I fall off something?' He relaxed totally against Jimmy, snuffling softly.

Jimmy pulled the sleeping bag up as high as it would go, willing every calorie of heat into Dix.

Dix slept soundly for another forty minutes before tying to pull away from Jimmy.

'Are you going to be sick again?'

'Jimmy! I need to see Jimmy!'

'I'm here, I'm right here.'

Suddenly Dix seemed to wake-up properly. His eyes opened and his usual sweet smile spread over his well shaped lips.

'Hallo.'

'Hi yersel.'

'I left a note with your Sergeant Mcbride. Did you get it?'

'I got it. The van license plate, portraits of the two men driving it. Tins of baking powder in the back.'

Dix nodded and smiled. His right hand coming up to stroke Jimmy's face. Then he sighed.

'Still can't get your face down on paper. Keep trying but it doesn't come out as I see you.'

'Jimmy smiled. 'When the wind drops you can have another go with me sitting in front of you, this time.'

Dix didn't reply, seemingly absorbed in mapping the contours, planes and angles of the face a few inches from his own. He gently kissed his own fingertips then laid those digits against Jimmy's chapped lips. Softly Jimmy kissed the fingers against his mouth.

'Goodbye, Jimmy Perez,' Dix sighed.

'You're no going anywhere until this wind drops,' Jimmy told him, a smile curling his own lips.

Dix's eyes rolled back as he went into a long, terrifying convulsion.

'Shit! He's fitting!' Jimmy shouted, trying to keep Dix from further injuring himself but not holding him down at the same time.

He could hear Mackie's voice but not understand what he was saying. At length the seizure ended, Dix laying unresponsive in his arms.

'Inspector Perez! Jimmy! Report!'

'He's stopped, but he's unconscious.'

He could hear Mackie swear under his breath.

Dix's face now looked even thinner, as if he'd lost pounds of weight in the last few minutes. The bones at his temple and cheeks standing out, grey shadows gathering underneath.

'Mackie, can we get him out of here, yet?' Jimmy asked. Then added more quietly, 'I think he's dying.'

'Stand by, Jimmy.'

In the hour it took get air sea rescue to the site, now the wind speed was dropping, Jimmy lay in the cave holding the cool body against his own. In that time he never stopped talking to Dix. He wanted him to know he wasn't alone. To give him something to hold onto. He told him about Fran and how he came to be co-parent with Duncan. About Fran's artistry, something which Cas had not inherited. He told Dix about Cas when she'd been a little girl, what she'd get up to as she was growing up. About how different his school days had been from hers. Being sent to the mainland at eleven, staying in the hostel during the week with all the other kids from home and the other smaller islands. Meeting Duncan for the first time. He moved onto what they would do when Dix got better, the trips they'd take to the other islands together. And how much he would look forward to tasting the famous lasagne. Mackie's voice interrupted him.

'Jimmy, there's a helicopter coming in to pick up Dix. Gilbert Bain is prepped and ready to receive him. ETA five minutes.'

'Acknowledged.'

Jimmy wriggled out of the cocoon and quickly threw on his clothes and waterproofs. Talking to Dix had become so much of a habit now, he continued to explain what was happening and where he would be going. As he was finishing re-packing the rucksack Jimmy could hear the beat of the helicopter rotors. Within seconds two air/sea rescue men were in the cave, efficiently taking over. They had Dix strapped to a basket stretcher, still in his survival bags, out of the cave, winched into the aircraft body and on his way before Jimmy got out of the cave.

The winch cable and rope were waiting for him. Numbly he fastened the rucksack on then attached the cable to the karribina on his harness and allowing himself to be winched up.

The trip back to Lerwick and Gilbert Bain hospital was accomplished faster than the journey out. Mobile signals were more variable then normal. Sandy followed behind the Land Rover in Jimmy's car, dropped it at the hospital then went home, as it was after eleven p.m.

He thanked Mackie and Dave and promised to let them know when he had any news. The hospital staff had most of Dix's details already, courtesy of Sandy and the two traffic officers, then they turned their attention onto him and gave him an, unwanted, check-up.

He couldn't see Dix as he was undergoing tests then, dependent on outcomes treatment would be given. All they would tell him was Mr Dixon was very poorly, so he cheekily left his details as next of kin.

Just as he was creeping out of the department the A&E registrar who'd examined him caught up with him. The doctor was loathe to release him unless he had someone with him, and was halfway to admitting him to hospital for the night when a well-known voice said,

'He won't be alone, doctor. I'll stay with him. Duncan Hunter.'

Jimmy didn't have to ask who'd rung him. Sandy Wilson could be an old woman at times.

The doctor gave Duncan some mild sedatives for Jimmy then allowed them to leave. Outside Duncan guided him to his own car, saying they could pick Jimmy's up in the morning. 

He waited until they were in Jimmy's house, and both had a cup of hot tea in front of them before asking how Dix was.

He sniffed and said quietly, 'I don't thing he's going to make it. Those pair of bastards gave him a leathering then he either fell or they threw him over the cliff. I need to get an update. I don't even know if they've been detained.'

Duncan left him to get his update, knowing he wouldn't rest until he had.

'Tosh rounded up the owner and manager of The Pic's and seized a hell of a lot of cocaine. Uniform got the van but only one of the men. The other apparently went over the cliff with Dix. Can't say I'll be grieving that loss.'

'Instant karma,' Duncan said, handing him a sandwich.

Once they'd finished the food and a generous measure of whisky, Duncan despatched Jimmy for a hot shower.

'Umm, would you mind staying?'

Duncan smiled sadly and nodded. He turned off the lights, locked the front door and followed Jimmy upstairs. No further words were required. Neither wanted to be alone tonight, what was left of it. They were both mourning a life of immense promise which was sliding to an untimely close.

Despite his traumatic day, Jimmy woke up at just after five a.m. Possibly because of the gentle buzz saw on the other side of the bed. He checked his phone - no missed calls or messages, which was a relief.

He slid out of bed quietly, wincing at aching muscles, dressed and went downstairs to catch up on his case.

A couple of hours later a bleary eyed Duncan wandered downstairs and made straight for the kettle.

'You eaten yet? Stupid question, course you haven't.' Duncan paused in his monologue as he checked the fridge. 'Good old Cassie. When did she do the shopping?'

'How do you know I didn't do the shopping?' Jimmy asked, aggrieved.

'Because, unlike the rest of us mortals, you never remember to eat. Bacon roll?' he asked, getting the bacon out of the fridge.

'Aye. Another...' 

A large hand picked up the mug he'd been using and took it over to the sink.

When they'd finished their breakfast and Duncan had tidied the kitchen, he asked,

'What time flight is Cassie on?'

'Late afternoon, she put a note on the board,' Jimmy nodded at the corkboard hanging near the door. 'She's not back until the 21st.'

Duncan leaned down next to his ear and said, 'What date do you think it is today?'

'Oh shit!'

'We'd better both go and pick her up,' Duncan said. Jimmy nodded.

At the hospital, Jimmy's name and warrant card got them into intensive care.

'Mr Dixon is still very poorly,' his doctor explained. 'We operated to relieve the pressure on his brain and we have him in an induced coma to help the healing process.'

Jimmy couldn't take his eyes of the figure in the bed which was almost covered by bandages and tubes. A cast on his left arm, tube stitched into his throat, a neck brace, white bandages around his head, his dark hair sticking up over the top. His eyes fell to the catheter bag hanging under the bed frame which was blood red.

'Doc?' Jimmy pointed to the bag.

'He has bruised kidneys. He'll be peeing blood for a day or three. But his kidneys are functioning.'

Jimmy took a deep breath and asked the question uppermost on his mind.

'Is he going to survive?'

The doctor scratched his nose then said, 'The insult to his brain was quite severe. We don't know if there will be brain damage until he wakes up. The hypothermia probably saved his life. His body cooled fast which prevented his brain swelling too much and causing catastrophic damage. The use of morphine also helped reduce the rising pressure until he got to us.'

Jimmy didn't say a word, just listened quietly.

'He has extensive bruising over his abdomen, back, his left ulna is fractured, three broken ribs, bruised pelvis and fractured skull, of course. I would say he was beaten by more than one person, but he did fight back. Then he was either thrown or fell onto a hard surface. We have photographs of his injuries.'

'We'll need the photographs, Doctor.'

He nodded, 'Of course. I hope you got the men who did this. This is only my opinion and won't count for anything in court, but I would say they were trying to kill him.'

'We have one of the men. The other one apparently went over the cliff but landed in the sea during the storm.'

The doctor gave a mirthless half grin and said, 'I'll see copies of the photographs and X-rays are sent to you.'

'Can we see him?' Jimmy asked. 'He's a family friend.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Just for a few minutes, then.'

Jimmy stood at Dix's bedside, Duncan at his back. The ventilator in the quiet room hissed, Dix's chest rising and falling in same rhythm. Bruising had begun to appear on the side of his face, possibly from where he'd hit the ledge. Jimmy pulled the plastic chair nearer the bed and sat down, placing his hand over Dix's right hand which lay by his side.

'Hallo Dix. I've bought Blabbermouth with me, see what other tales he can think of to tell ye.' 

Duncan snorted. 

'Cassie's coming back from Glasgow tonight, hopefully we can bring her in to say hallo. She's not going to be pleased with us, letting you get hurt so watch your ears once she gets going at the two of us.'

A nurse knocked on the door and popped her head in. 'I'm sorry, you'll have to leave now.'

Duncan nodded as Jimmy said, 'We're being thrown out now but we'll be back to see you later.'

 

Back at the station, Jimmy gave Tosh the lead on interviewing Mr Adretti and Mr Edwards, the owner and manager of The Pic. She impressed Jimmy with her preparation and her questioning techniques. In no time at all she'd caught both men out. Edwards, obviously frightened out of his wits, wanted a deal and protection in return for all the information he had on the Manchester part of the pipeline. At that point Jimmy called a halt and instituted a telephone conference call with Inspector Feldman.

After explaining the circumstances, Jimmy said,

'Edwards is offering information on the Manchester pipeline in return for protection and a deal. You have more knowledge on that end than we do, do you want to sit in on the interview?'

'Don't I just? I'll bring my Sergeant with me, if I may. We'll get the first flight up.'

Jimmy and Tosh signed off the call.

'Good work, Tosh. Do you want to take lead on the scumbag uniform picked up?'

'Yes Sir!'

'Take Sandy in with you. I want him for attempted murder. The charge may go to murder if Philip doesn't make it. I'll observe.'

'Sir.'

After a very long day, and with Jimmy's statement which included Dix's statement from when they were in the cave, Tosh had Kyle Davies on a charge of attempted murder.'

Jimmy got a vicious, vicarious satisfaction from hearing Tosh get Davies booked in on that charge.

Picking up Cassie from the airport was just as difficult as he knew it would be. When she turned her angry, tearstained face to her Dad and demanded,

'Did you get whoever did this?'

He could say, in all honesty, 'Yes.'

They called in at the Gilbert Bain, to the news that Dix was holding his own. Cassie and Jimmy only got five minutes at his bedside. Cassie was trying to hold back her tears as she sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs.

'Hallo Dix, Cassie's back here now.' He waited a few seconds before prompting his daughter. 'Talk to him. Hold his hand. He may not remember it but he will know someone was here.'

Cassie looked unsure but nevertheless picked up the lax hand resting on the bedclothes.

'Hi Dix. It's me. So sorry you got hurt here especially after I told you how peaceful Shetland is.'

Jimmy put his arm around Cassie as she tried to stifle her sobs against his shoulder. 

'How did you get on in Glasgow?' Jimmy asked her, calmly, nodding towards Dix.

She swallowed. 'Yeah, um, er, did well. Looks like both are willing to come on board. They're looking to sign up after Christmas.'

'That's really good, sweetheart,' Jimmy replied.

For the rest of the short visit Jimmy kept Cassie talking and made sure she held her friend's hand.

Once home there were several fairly long skype calls to Brazil to let Edison know about Dix and to speak to a number of his friends, then she went to bed. The next day she wanted to go and check that Dix's cottage was OK and to make sure there was nothing perishable which would be off and stinking the place out when he got back. 

The cottage was locked up and secured when they got there. Cassie was correct there was perishable food there which needed to be cleared out.

'We'll take it home and pay him for it, when he wakes up,' she decided imperiously.

Duncan was tidying up papers in the lounge as Jimmy worked to bag up the milk, fruit and veg. When he was finished he turned and saw Duncan and Cassie studying pages which had obviously been torn out of a sketch pad. He wandered over and looked over their shoulders. The sketches were all of him. Many more in a pile on the table.

'He meant it,' Jimmy said, surprised.

'Meant what?' Cassie asked, throwing Duncan a questioning look.

'He said he couldn't get my face right, he'd been trying to sketch me. These look fine to me.'

'Oh Dad,' Cassie said at length.

'What?'

'He really likes you.'

'Mmm, I know.'

'What?'

'He asked me out.'

'You didn't tell me!'

'Because I said I needed a more time. '

'Why did you feel you needed more time?' Cassie asked, puzzled. 'I could tell you like him.'

'I don't know, now,' Jimmy admitted, haltingly. 'I thought we had all the time in the world. Didn't know how much either of us might have left.'

Cassie put down the sketches on the pile and hugged him, as Duncan put his arm around him from the other side.

Against all the odds Dix held on. His brain swelling went down, so after four days the medication was reduced to allow him to come out of his induced coma. There was brain activity but even after the complete withdrawal of the meds to keep him in a coma, Dix didn't wake up. He was breathing on his own, so the doctors took him off the ventilator and replaced it with a nasal cannula. His bruises faded from deep blues, blacks and purples to sickly greens and yellows. His arm and his ribs were knitting well. 

Cassie had to leave Shetland to go back to Brazil, having extended her stay for an extra week. She took a taxi to the airport but not before admonishing her Dad and her Father to make sure they texted her every day to let her know how Dix was doing.

Every evening Jimmy called into the hospital and sat with Dix. Sometimes he just talked about the cases he was dealing with. Updates on how disbanding the cocaine pipeline was going. Manchester and Liverpool were taking the lead on that now. However the information from Edwards and Davies had helped a great deal in making that much headway and Jimmy made sure that Dix knew he'd been instrumental in helping the police there. Other times Jimmy read The Shetland Times to him and played music. Duncan tended to call in a couple of times a week in the afternoons.

Jimmy and Duncan between them were keeping an eye on Dix's rented cottage. On one of the trips there, Duncan brought back three paperback books which had been in the cottage.

Thought we could read some of his own books to him? Duncan had written on a note on top of the books, left at Dix's bedside. 

The note became the bookmark in the present book. They began with 'The Collected Short Stories of Sherlock Holmes', then moved onto a very well thumbed copy of 'Dune'.

When asked, all the doctors could say for certain was, there was brain activity. There was reaction to stimuli; being touched, being read to, talked to, music. Whilst he hadn't achieved full consciousness, his level of consciousness had risen slowly. But he seemed to have stuck in a sort of twilight level; neither awake nor in a coma. Even when pressed they couldn't say if he would stay in this twilight world, or, if he would, eventually, wake-up.

Duncan had talked to the doctors at Gilbert Bain about getting a neurological consultant in to examine Dix, but Dr Greer, Dix's usual doctor, had already sent all the data they had over to the Neurological Services at Queen Elizabeth University Hospital.

'If he's still at the same level of consciousness by the end of January I think we will be looking at transferring him to Glasgow,' Greer said. 

'For a consult?' Jimmy asked.

'No. It's an excellent specialist centre and they are better equipped to take care of his long term needs.'

If Dix got transferred to the Queen Elizabeth, there would be no way he could visit every night, unless he got himself a transfer to Glasgow. When he mentioned this to Duncan, he said,

'Don't borrow trouble, it might not come to that.'

Duncan's attitude didn't stop Jimmy having a sleepless few nights. Eventually he decided to tell the man himself.

Arriving for his usual evening visit, he settled himself in his chair and picked up the latest book, '2001, A Space Odyssey'.

'I think Dunc is raiding his own library for these books, unless you're as much of a Sci Fi fan as he is. Before we start I need to tell you something. Unless you wake up in the next two weeks, they're looking at transferring you to Queen Elizabeth University Hospital in Glasgow. Even though they've been doing physiotherapy with you here, apparently that is the best place for your long term care.'

Was that a faint crease between Dix's eyebrows?

'If that happens I'll apply for a transfer to Glasgow. Would take a while to go through though. Inspector's posts don't grow on trees. And until a transfer does come through I couldn't come and sit with you every night. So please, for us both, Dix. Try and wake up.'

He frowned. He couldn't be sure but it almost looked as if Dix was faintly frowning himself.

Making himself comfortable and loosely holding Dix's lax right hand, as usual, he began,

'The drought had lasted now for ten million years, and the reign of the terrible lizards had long since ended.'

As Jimmy came towards the end of the first part of the book, he felt the muscles in Dix's hand begin to twitch. It had happened before so he paid it little attention. At the end of the chapter, the twitching in his hand was much worse.

'Is that a touch of cramp?' Jimmy asked, picking up the skin cream and beginning the physio exercise he'd been taught by the staff at the hospital. Eventually Dix's arm and hand relaxed into immobility once more.

'Good night, Dix.' He bent forward and kissed his forehead, as was his custom. The skin under his lips felt different. He was frowning. A tear had run from the corner of his right eye into his hair line.

'Hey, I'm not going to abandon you. Don't worry about that.' He wiped the liquid away. 'We'll get through this, love. We will. I'll see you tomorrow.'

A good proportion of the next day was spent speaking to the organisers of Up Helly Aa. With the fire festival fast approaching there seemed to be a thousand and one decisions which required police input. Eventually he managed to get some of what he termed actual police work done before departing for the day.

Shona and Michelle were on duty when he got to the ward.

'How's he been today?'

'A bit quiet, actually. Physio says he's more tense than usual too.'

'Is that a good sign?'

Shona wavered her hand in a 'not sure' gesture.

Jimmy shrugged then proceeded into Dix's room. 

'Evening Dix, it's Jimmy.' He took off his coat and put it on the back of his chair, picked up their current book and sat down.

'Shona says you haven't been your usual sunny self today. What's up?' He barely paused, after all, his questions had gone unanswered for weeks now.

A voice, croaky and a little rusty from disuse, said, quite clearly, 'I don't want to go to Glasgow. I want to stay here, with you.'

Jimmy sat up as if he'd been electrocuted. A pair of deep blue eyes were regarding him.

'Dix? Can you hear me?'

'Course I can hear you.'

Jimmy hit the call button. In seconds the room was filled with medical personnel, asking questions, doing tests and forgetting about Jimmy standing quietly in the corner, keeping out of the way.

Quite some hours later, when the last of the doctors had vacated the room, leaving the occupant wrung out and exhausted, Jimmy came forward again.

'It's so good to have you back,' Jimmy said quietly, sincerity in every syllable.

'I wanted to talk to you and hear some more of the story.'

'Tomorrow. You can barely keep your eyes open.'

'How can I be so tired? I've just woken up,' Dix asked, crossly.

Jimmy smiled, going to kiss his forehead, as usual. Two, unblinking blue eyes stopped him in his tracks. They were waiting for him to make a decision. 

The right decision.

Jimmy altered his trajectory and instead of forehead, kissed lips. It was the softest, most soul satisfying kiss Jimmy had enjoyed in a long, long time.

The cheeky smile and laughing eyes when he came up for air agreed with him.

'See you tomorrow, love,' Dix whispered, rubbing his knuckles gently against Jimmy's evening stubble.


End file.
